kleine weiße Lüge
by Dorminchu
Summary: A series of introspective drabbles centered around the survivors of Shiganshina's fall. Multi-chapter. [ch 96]


_a/n: I don't know about you, but I could really use a break from writing ugly, reprehensible things._

* * *

The boy opened his eyes. Immediately overcome by a deep unease. Too tired to chase after it, he instead lay there, squinting at the sunbeams overhead, trying to recall himself instead.

He wasn't afraid. He didn't feel much of anything, really.

Knew he was cold. Nothing to shield him from the elements. And it was always coldest in the morning, this time of year.

Sun was already up. Maybe he was cold because he was on the ground instead of a mattress. That didn't sound right, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

Knew he was numb, still, but he could feel the outline of the little key against his breast.

How had that gotten there?

He drew it out, studied it. Nothing extraordinary happened. The key glinted dully in the light when he turned it between his fingers. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Put it back where it belonged, uneasy and disappointed.

Sore. He was sore because of the hard floor he was lying on. Not that he was used to much, coming from a place like —

Suddenly, he became aware that he was shivering. Heat creeping up his cheeks. He chewed his tongue and blinked, breathing erratically through his nose. His nails digging into his palms, a clumsy, reckless bid for self-control.

He could help it, now. Not back then, back on the boat, trapped and cornered, alone, while people were screaming crushed by the boat under his feet no titans yet but he knew they would come sooner or later; the more he tried not to think about it the deeper the scene buried itself into his semiconscious; it was better to be haunted later than now.

Better not to use names. Or remember faces. Easy to forget, when he was alone in a sea of people just like him. It felt like a year had passed since yesterday.

As though he hadn't slept at all. Stupid. He'd slept a little. That was why he had woken up in the first place. If he was still dreaming, then he would have to wake up soon.

Or maybe he was dead already.

 _Stop being stupid. Dead people can't dream. You aren't dead._

That was neither something to be celebrated nor denied. Just a statement. _You aren't dead._

He didn't know if he wanted to be alive or dead. Which was kinda funny. He should probably want to die right now. Too scared for that, he supposed. Or maybe it was just hatred that kept him going.

Maybe.

He didn't want to think about this anymore. So he looked around.

Reality was inescapable. He could not hide. He did not want to run anymore.

Mikasa was gone. Armin was still huddled next to him, small and shivering. He was the one that needed protection, now more than ever.

"Armin?"

Eren's voice came out a little harsh from grief, misuse. Armin stirred.

"Oi." Eren gripped his shoulder lightly. "Where's Mikasa?"

Armin looked up at him. His eyes were rimmed red and dull-looking through his hair.

"She went to get food, I think. She'll be back."

"Oh."

There was nothing helpful to be said. Nothing to do but wait for Mikasa to return. She was a kid, just like him. What if she'd gotten herself into trouble, or kidnapped? He would never know because he had been asleep. Useless. He was supposed to protect her.

"I couldn't sleep," Armin whispered. He sounded broken. "I don't think I want to wake up again, if this is all there is."

Eren felt profoundly helpless. Like he could fight and fight but it would never be enough. He could not fix his friend; he could not bring back —

His breath hitched viciously. _Stop thinking about it!_

"You're gonna make it," he said. "We all have to survive. Don't talk like that."

Unsure if he was talking to Armin or himself anymore, or if it mattered in the slightest. Neither boy said anything for a while. Eren did not look over at Armin again until he sat up.

"You should eat something," Eren said, trying to be brave. "Once Mikasa gets back."

Armin nodded vaguely.


End file.
